


I Want My Message to Be Received

by sp00ky_mulder (orphan_account)



Category: LazyTown
Genre: Angst, BLAME HER NOT ME, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, More Than Usual, canonverse, my friend challenged me saying that i could write sadder than my last fic, robbie needs some cheering up, serious angst, so here it is, this one's gonna be a doozie
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-31
Updated: 2017-01-31
Packaged: 2018-09-21 01:22:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9525275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/sp00ky_mulder
Summary: After spending a majority of one's life in self-inflicted solitude and an unshakeable feeling of despair, it feels nice to be treated nice. However, be that as it may, it does put a damper on things if the way one's being held is really not something to think oneself to be special for.





	

Robbie had known since awhile ago that he had a ghastly habit of picking things apart, of analyzing them purely to prove to himself that they weren't nearly as wonderful as they presented themselves to be. By the time it'd come to his attention, he was too deep into the practice to stop. It prevented a great deal of hypothetical heartbreak at any rate, and so long as it kept him safe in that respect, he saw no reason in stopping. Yet, as to everything, there was an exception that didn't care if he wanted it or not. The issue with most seemingly good characters is that they refuse to acknowledge their flaws, because, what flaws? What on earth are those? Of course, Robbie knew better than to trust somebody who, for all intents and purposes, appeared perfect. His exception was just the contrary, hence the room for error.

It was infuriating, the fact that Sportacus was as modest as he was. There wasn't a chance to hate him if you tried, and how Robbie did try. The truth was that he couldn't stay mad at someone who never got upset with him in the first place, as that would make no sense. It didn't make sense how Sportacus could scrape by without ever snapping at Robbie either, and even so, he did. With nothing to do other than let his guard down, Robbie sat back and watched it all unfold, only grimacing minimally as he felt this nervous sort of affection seep into his mind and corrupt his way of living.

Once, in the summer, Robbie had been the first to visit, rather than the other way around. The look on Sportacus' face was precious, one of wholehearted pleasant surprise. He also hadn't hesitated to pull Robbie inside and drape his arm across his shoulders, an act of physical intimacy that he would later come to realize he'd enjoyed. In his efforts to pretend that he couldn't care less about the situation, Robbie came across as deeply invested. As much as he worried himself over this, Sportacus wasn't paying attention to his demeanor, much more concerned with making him comfortable in spite of the drastic altitude of his airship. _Are you feeling okay? Is there something I can do for you?_ Yes and yes, Robbie had thought, but he told Sportacus that he should calm down instead. Thankfully, his snide comment wasn't taken as an insult, perhaps going so far as to be unnoticed. Relieving as it was to find that he hadn't offended or put off the host, Robbie muttered an apology under his breath; if it couldn't be heard, so be it, because at least he apologized at all.

Sportacus wasn't wearing his usual getup that day, which made their interactions take on a genuine quality, as if they were somehow seeing parts of one another they hadn't been able to look at before. Only a t-shirt (albeit a well fitting one) and sweatpants for him, managing to silently convince Robbie that there was something unique to their hangouts. It hadn't then occurred to him that the outfit might have been in response to recent heightened temperatures. After all, weather didn't affect what Robbie wore by any means, and he made the assumption that it was the same for his companion. Sportacus didn't seem concerned about the heat in the least, taking every opportunity to push close to Robbie, such an unconscious action that meant the world to him.

Now, Robbie was recalling that fond memory, mulling over the palpable bitter-sweetness of it. It was stupid how willing he was to believe that he stood out to Sportacus amidst the townspeople, and he was currently developing a nasty headache from overthinking the idiocy of his decisions. That, and he was trudging through an especially harsh bout of illness, undoubtedly having something to do with sleep deprivation and an all around inactive agenda on his part. In summary, he was miserable, and hadn't come up with any ideas pertaining to mitigating the problem at hand. 

Egotistic tendencies and narcissism are not one in the same, and Robbie had experience with the latter. He'd thought that Sportacus was kind to him because he enjoyed his company, never once stopping to wonder if it was just a byproduct of his blindingly positive personality. It was unclear if he truly hadn't an inkling as to that being a possibility, or if he was purposefully ignoring his own logic. When he finally came to the conclusion, somehow he couldn't find solace in being right. For the first time, he resented having been two steps ahead; there weren't any benefits if you refused to do anything with your discoveries. All that came out of it was a downward, brooding spiral, taking place inside his lair, which he had not left for nearly four days. 

Eventually, Robbie hoped, he had to run out of energy and thus be blessed with the inability to cry. He was so tired, laying horizontally across the characteristically orange chair of his and languidly watching its faux fur soak up any tears it collected. His throat ached and his lungs burned from having cried for this long. Sleep was out of the question, its elusiveness actually increasing as soon as it was urgently needed. Typical, is what echoed in his skull. Painfully typical. There was one thing that set this instance apart from all the rest: how much it hurt. Whatever the reason was (the reason that Robbie knew but preferred not to think about), it was far worse than anything else he'd gone through. 

"He cared for me," he said, listening to his voice emanating. 

"No," offered his own reply, keeping up the conversation. "He didn't, and he never will."

**Author's Note:**

> this'll be multi chaptered but i might end up just compiling into one big thing if it formats better that way? sorry about the writing style by the way. i don't really have an excuse I'm just not that good :")


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